


Pony Up

by sagiow



Category: Mercy Street (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Campfires, Dancing and Singing, F/M, Music, Summer Camp, Teenage AU, clothing optional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24184057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagiow/pseuds/sagiow
Summary: He should have picked Truth.
Relationships: Byron Hale/Anne Hastings, Emma Green/Henry Hopkins, Jedediah "Jed" Foster/Mary Phinney, Samuel Diggs/Charlotte Jenkins
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7
Collections: Mercy Street Summer Camp AU





	Pony Up

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after middlemarch's "Where the boys are" and MercuryGray's "Shine On, Harvest Moon", but before Fericita's "Nor The Moon By Night"

That Friday night’s soirée had started pleasantly enough; the night was comfortably warm, with a slight breeze to disperse the suffocating humidity that had plagued them all week long, and not make the heat of the blazing campfire before them totally unbearable. To make matters even pleasanter, Alice and Frank were blissfully absent, and missed by absolutely no one. On the guitar, Sam and Jed had indulged Emma’s favorite game, _Guess the Broadway Musical_ , and she’d won, although Byron and Charlotte had put up an honorable fight. From the very first spark, hot dogs had been skewered on sticks to many a crass wiener joke, and drinks had been abundant; Anne had demonstrated her mixologist talents, and managed to whip plenty of decent cocktails from bottles of bargain vodka, no name tequila and the camp’s never-ending stash of past expiry SunnyD and Capri Suns. 

And abundant drinks were indeed needed for a Camp Greenwood game of _Never Have I Ever._

Although Henry had been Hale’s intended mark all evening long, he had not managed to crack his co-counsellor's alleged dark past, the proper prospective pastor remaining irritably sober. However, one rather surprising collateral damage victim of this inquisition had been Mary, who was now intently eyeing the liquor level in her red Solo cup by alternately blinking each eye. 

“You okay, Mary?” asked Jed, wrapping his arm tighter around her waist. 

“Yeah... I could’ve sworn I’d just filled up. Is my glass leaking?” 

“In your mouth, yes,” he replied, an amused smile on his lips. “I’m learning quite a whole lot about you tonight.” 

She hesitated somewhat. “A whole lot of good or bad?” 

“Good, definitely.” His smile grew. “And some downright amazing, like you drinking to that handcuff question...” 

She groaned at his suggestively raised eyebrow. “It wasn’t anything like _that._ It was at a Trump protest. For science, and women’s rights, and keeping families together and... oh, just protesting all of it, really. Got a bit too carried away.” 

“Like I said: downright amazing.” He confirmed it by leaning over to place a soft kiss on her neck, his tickling beard making her squirm and titter, and earning her three more kisses for it. 

“Hey, focus, you two!” Anne clapped loudly from her seat across the fire. “My turn, listen up! Okay, let’s see... Never have I ever...” she pondered, and smirked at the new lovebirds, “made out in a medical supply closet.” 

“Oh come on!” Jed cried. “Do you have to make it medical?” 

“Obviously. We’ve all made out in _regular_ closets. So, have you, Doc?” 

Jed glared at her as he raised his beer to his lips, drank... and was shadowed immediately by Mary, to every one’s whooping. 

“Guys, keep it sterile in there, will you?” Sam laughed. “I don’t want to think about where that Band-aid’s been before I stick it anywhere on me. Emma, you’re up.” 

Seated between Anne and Henry at the picnic table, Emma thought it over, and decided to play safe. “Never have I ever.... killed something.” 

“Do insects count?” Charlotte asked, with a swap to her neck. “Cuz that would be pretty self-sabotaging.” 

“Of course not. And neither do fish.” 

Sam and Henry took a swig, and Mary sighed and downed her cup. 

“Diggs? Really?” Byron enthused. “What, you pop a cap in Sancho back in da hood?” 

“That’s fucking racist and you know it, Hale. No, I smoked a skunk on the road once.” 

There was a stunned silence. “Oh, God, you shouldn’t do that while _driving_ ...” Mary scolded. “That’s dangerous! Not to mention _super_ illegal here.” 

“Uh... no. An actual skunk. That I hit it with my car. You guys don’t say that? Smoked a skunk, a squirrel, a raccoon?” 

“Only if you’re hosting a hillbilly cookoff,” Emma cracked, to Henry’s immediate and thorough snorting of his drink; the amused, appreciative gaze they then shared was missed by the others, who were staring perplexedly at Sam. 

He just shrugged. “Must be an Ontario thing. I was visiting my cousins in Toronto when it happened, that’s what they said I did, I didn’t even question it. So what’d you kill, Mary?” he briskly deflected. 

She lifted her head proudly, a certain gleam in her eye. “I hunt game in the Fall. No guns; with a _crossbow_. Killed my first buck when I was twelve.” 

“Well that’s...both comforting and terrifying. Remind me never to piss you off again.” Charlotte turned to Henry. “And what about you, Rev? Overfed your goldfish and have been living with the guilt of it ever since?” 

Henry frowned. “No. It was a muskrat.” 

“You overfed a muskrat? Or you trapped it for fur, Daniel Boone?” 

“Nooooo.” The frown deepened, a hesitant glance cast at his seatmate. “At the other camp I worked at, my... this girl and I went canoeing; we stopped on a beach to, uh...take a break and some giant rodent snuck up on us, scared us shitless. I... hit it with my paddle. Strongly. And repeatedly.” 

“Sod off!” Anne exclaimed. “Choir Boy beat a river rat to _death_?! Blimey you Yanks have serious rage issues!” 

“ _I don’t have rage issues!_ ” shouted Mary, before adjusting the unexpected volume of her voice. “I just like hunting! And meat! Venison's _really_ good, y’all.” 

“Okay, Mary’s starting to y’all, maybe we should change games,” Sam offered. “Something will less compulsory drinking.” 

Hale perked up immediately. “Oh, let’s play Truth or Dare!” 

This was met with a loud groan around the circle. “Ugh, no, we’re not in middle school anymore,” Charlotte said. 

“Nonono, we’re playing the legendary _Ultimate Greenwood Fire Friday_ Truth or Dare.” 

Emma crossed her arms and looked at him dubiously. “I’m an actual Green and I’ve never heard of that; you just totally made that up.” 

“Yeah, how exactly is it different from the regular kind?” asked Henry apprehensively. 

“It’s about... facing your deepest fear. Taming your inner lion.” 

It was Anne’s turn to stare at him coldly. “Byron, if that involves cotton balls anywhere on my body again, I swear to God I will make you _eat_ them.” 

“No, no cotton balls, babe, although of all the things that _should_ gross you out, that one’s definitely not one of them. Not like th-” 

“Alright, let’s give it a shot!” Jed agreed, interrupting a topic no one was keen to further explore. “Who kicks it off? Henry? You were up next after Emma.” 

All eyes turned expectantly to Henry, a pair of blue ones especially intent upon him, and making him feel that he had not much choice in the matter. “Okay, fine,” he shrugged as nonchalantly as he could muster. “We’ve done enough truths tonight; I choose Dare.” 

As soon as he had spoken, Hale jumped up and howled of joy. “ **MAGIC MIKE!** ” Byron roared, arms thrown up victoriously. “Your dare is doing Magic Mike!” 

The blood drained from Henry's face. “What?! _No_. No way.” 

“You can’t say no, Hen,” Jed said. “Ultimate Fire Camp... whatever, Dare's called. No take-backs.” 

“Yeah, you have no minors in attendance to blame, this time,” Sam smirked. 

“Oh you fuckers, you set me up!” Henry realized. “You guys are screwing me over! With a made-up game!” 

“Such language, Padre!” Byron admonished him. “Screwing you over? For shame, ‘tis only a little interpretive dancing for our ladies’ entertainment.” To prove his point, Anne, Charlotte and Mary immediately cheered, Emma following with wide-eyed attention the next turn of events. “And you know what? Screw _this_ , I’m doing it too, you’re not getting all the sexy credit tonight. Come on men, we rise in support of our bro in his hour of trial by fire.” 

“This is insane,” Henry deflected, looking to Jed for support, but he only shrugged and stood along with the other two. “What, we just.... strip and dance? No music, no nothing?” 

“No, that’d be totally weird,” Anne scoffed. 

“ _That_ would be the weird part?” 

“Cool your jets, Rev,” Charlotte said. “Your boys got your back, us girls got your beat. Sam, hand me your guitar.” 

The instrument was passed across: Charlotte adjusted the capo, strummed a few tentative bars, and with a wink at the hapless divinity student, struck a decisive chord. An unmistakable riff filled the air, to the cheers of everyone gathered but one. 

As he started gyrating, Hale took over the bass line, Sam joining in to provide the beat boxing. Anne then jumped in with the background harmonics. To Mary's amazement, the resulting sound was actually quite good. "Don't look so surprised," Jed said. "It's a bit of a Camp Greenwood hazing ritual for the new guys. We've had a few years of practice with the arrangements. There was a year when-"

"Jed, please, not now," she cut him off, her slightly glossy gaze roaming over his body. "Less talking, more Magic Miking." With a nod, he pulled his hood over his head and started dancing with hammy seductive intensity, to her delighted hilarity.

Charlotte’s voice rang first, bright and clear, as Sam, by her side, sensually pulled off his shirt to the others’ eager encouragement. 

_“I'm just a bachelor_   
_I'm looking for a partner_   
_Someone who knows how to ride_   
_Without even falling off”_

Anne took over, a full octave higher, Byron grinding soulfully next to her, his shirt already long gone:   
_“Gotta be compatible_   
_Takes me to my limits_   
_Boy when I break you off_   
_I promise that you won't want to get off”_

Mary adding her lower register to the mix, the chorus was attacked by all the girls, definitely into the show and grooving from their seats, except for Emma, who just clapped along, her eyes dead set on Henry, who was standing like a baffled alien in the middle of it all. 

_“If you're horny let’s do it, ride it, my pony_   
_My saddle's waiting, come and jump on it”_

His eyes met hers somewhere along the first sing-through, and her smile widened encouragingly. Despite herself, she found herself singing along with the repeat, clapping perhaps a little more enthusiastically. The effect was catching; his lips curled ever so slightly upwards, and he began to move along, if perhaps a bit stilted, with his friends. One by one, he unfastened the buttons at his wrists, and slowly began to roll his sleeves up. 

For all the bare chests and thrusting hips surrounding her, Emma had never seen a sexier sight. 

The effect was so great that when the next verse hit, it was with the greatest astonishment that she heard her own voice singing it, and directly to him. There appeared to be some kind of reaction from the others, but she didn’t register it; all that mattered was not messing up the song, and not breaking eye contact with him and his fantastic forearms. 

_“Sitting here flossing_   
_Peepin_ _' your_ _steelo_   
_Just once if I have the chance_   
_The things I would do to you_   
_You and your body_   
_Every single portion_   
_Send chills up and down your spine_   
_Juice flowing d-”_

She stopped herself then, her mouth agape, the weight of the words finally registering. The rest of the group, as well as Henry, however, did not. To the resounding chorus all around, his shirtsleeves irresistibly rolled to his elbows, his hands moved to his collar, and, one by one, he released the buttons. She was vaguely aware of a sweatshirt being whirled around above someone’s head, of some downright dirty dancing on the table right behind her, but none of it mattered. There was the music, there was him, and, with every step he took towards her, he was running out of buttons, and she, of safe distance between them. 

Soon he was right in front of her, above her, a bare forearm framing each side of her as he propped his hands on the table behind her, his shirt open but restrained by that one last button. He leaned his head down, his mouth to her ear, and softly sang the bridge right to it. 

_“_ _If we're_ _gonna_ _get nasty baby_   
_First we'll show and tell_   
_Till' I reach your pony tail, oh...”_

Whatever came next, she never knew, because every single cell in her body exploded the instant his fingers caressed her hair. 

Whatever he saw in her eyes as she looked up to him then, was enough to make him freeze, fall mute, and sink deep within the dark blue pools. 

In them, so many questions, so many concerns, so many maybes. But right below, on her parted lips, so many answers, so many reassurances, so many eager yesses, all fighting to be blurted out, to be released by a likewise captive kiss. 

Somehow, sometime, the chorus returned once more and the song ended, to raucous applause and celebratory strumming of strings. 

“That was AWESOME!” yelled Hale, dropping dramatically on his knees before Henry. “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned! My faith in You was lacking, but I now see the weakness of my soul, and pray for your forgiveness. We are not woooorthyyyy...” he groveled as he bent forward to the ground in the deepest bow. 

Re-emerging from the depths of that indescribable moment, Henry drew himself back up, cleared his throat, and nodded magnanimously. “You shall be forgiven, my son, with but a simple act of contrition, and charity to your fellow men – and women.” 

“Anything! You but name it, and it is yours, milord!” 

“You’re manning the brakes on the zipline tonight.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the totally unnecessary Pitch Perfect / Magic Mike combo Mercy Street Summer Camp AU you absolutely did not ask for (well, except for Fericita - Magic Mike was originally invoked in her story). I'll apologize for it because it's the Canadian thing to do. 
> 
> How many a capella versions of Ginuwine's "Pony" did I watch on YouTube for this? Some.  
> How many scenes from Magic Mike for, you know, science? Some... more.  
> I highly recommend both to get in the right mind set for this, I've been humming that f-ing song for 5 days now.
> 
> Since this is also the AU of obscure regional expressions, "smoked a raccoon" is definitely one used in Ontario to refer to roadkill.
> 
> Thanks for letting me borrow them for a spin in your sandbox, BroadwayBaggins!
> 
> For those who missed it on tumblr, Anne shares my totally random yet profound disgust of cotton balls.


End file.
